


The Puzzle

by LilyK



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair receives a series of mysterious packages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Puzzle

Thanks to my wonderful beta, Double R, who gives me the encouragement I need. Thanks once again to my buddies for the plot bunny. I've set the snare out for more!

* * *

Blair Sandburg stood quietly looking down at his desk in the bullpen. His partner, Jim Ellison, glanced up from the report he was working on and noticed the statue that was his usually perpetually moving partner. 

"Say, Chief, something wrong?" 

"No, not really. It's just that there's a package on my desk. It wasn't there five minutes ago when I went for coffee. See?" Blair pointed at the small shoebox-sized cardboard box sitting dead center on his desktop. 

Jim moved to stand next to his friend. "Good observation, Detective. It is a package. Oh, and surprise, it's addressed to you." Jim said in his best droll voice. "Did you order something and forget about it?" 

"No." Blair answered, eyeing the packing suspiciously. "Do you think it's safe to open?" 

The corner of Jim's mouth twitched minutely. "Yes, Sandburg. I don't sense any danger or evil things emanating from the box." 

Blair scowled at his partner. "Thanks, Jim, some help you are." 

Megan Connor walked into the bullpen and joined the two men who stood watching the box, obviously waiting for it to grow legs. "Oh, Sandy, while you were gone to the men's room, I signed for a delivery for you. I hope that was all right." 

Blair shrugged. "Hell if I know. I didn't order anything." 

Megan reached for the box. "Goodie! I love surprises. Is it your birthday?" 

"Nope. No birthday. No celebration of any kind." Blair said. 

Jim patted Blair's shoulder. "Good luck with the expedition, Chief. I've got work to do." With that, Jim headed back to his desk and turned to his computer screen. 

Megan encouraged Blair. "Go ahead, Sandy, open it." 

Blair gingerly picked up the small package as if it was going to bite him. Megan chuckled and grabbed it from his hands. Blair grabbed it back and a small tug of war ensued. 

"It's mine, Connor." Blair stated. 

"Sure, now you want it. Just a minute ago you were looking at it like it was a snake about to sink its fangs in you." Megan laughed. 

Blair laughed in return. "Okay, let's open it and see what we've got." Blair ripped off the two strips of packing tape holding the box closed and pulled out an ordinary plastic bag much like the kind that groceries are packed in. Blair reached in and pulled out a pair of blue jeans. 

"Maybe they're from your mother?" Megan surmised. She picked up the empty box. "No return address." 

Blair turned the pants over several times and read the tag that was still attached to the back pocket. Levi Strauss. "They're brand new and they're my size." 

Megan shook her head. "And you didn't order them?" 

"Nope." Blair shrugged. "It must be a mistake. But they were addressed to me. Weird." Blair shook his head and sat at his desk, blue jeans in hand. 

Jim glanced up. "Say, Chief. Nice jeans. There a sale or something?" 

Blair shook his head. "I have no idea where they came from. No note, no card, no return address, but they're my size. I know I didn't order anything." 

Jim looked closely at his friend. "Well, obviously, someone knows you and wanted to give them to you. How else would they know your size? Maybe one of your many lady friends?" 

"I don't think any of my lady friends would give me blue jeans. It's a strange gift. And besides, I'm not dating anybody steady right now who'd even give me a gift." 

Jim's eyes met Blair's. "So maybe you have a secret admirer." 

Blair rolled his eyes. "Or a stalker. Now that gives me the creeps." He shrugged and laid the pants back into the box. "But why jeans? There has to be a reason." 

Blair was deep in thought when Jim tapped his shoulder. "Earth to Sandburg. I hate to interrupt all this internal investigating, Chief, but we have a real crime to investigate. A robbery over in that new highrise on Sunset. Let's roll." 

* * *

Jim was setting the table for dinner when Blair walked into the loft. "Hey, Chief, you remember to pick up the mail?" 

Blair tossed his keys and the handful of letters and a magazine on the small table just inside the door. "Yeah, mostly bills and a couple of magazines. I got something too." 

"Dinner's ready. Come and eat. You can mess with whatever later." Jim put the tuna casserole and tossed salad on the dining table. "You want soda or beer?" 

"Yeah." Blair said, tearing open the strip conveniently provided on the top of the small padded manila envelope. 

"Sandburg? Blair?" Jim tried again. 

"Oh, sorry, Jim. I'll have a Coke, please. I got another package." Blair held up the envelope. 

Jim nodded. "So I see. What is it this time? Socks to match the jeans?" 

"Very funny, man." Blair tipped the envelope into his hand and a small square of tissue paper slid out. He slipped a finger under the piece of tape holding it closed and ripped into it. "Geez, Jim, look at this." 

Jim stopped and looked into Blair's outstretched hand. "It's a necklace." 

"Yeah, Jim, but look at it really closely. It's exactly like the one that that asshole Brackett smashed that day. Man, these things aren't expensive but they're a bitch to find. I got mine in Guatemala. Come to think of it, I bought the necklace and that blue plaid vest I used to have at the same place." 

"Eat, Chief." Jim said after he spooned out tuna casserole onto Blair's dish. "Another gift from your admirer?" 

Blair picked up his fork and before he took a bite, he mused, "I have no idea. It's not making any sense. Blue jeans. A necklace. Really off the wall gifts for an admirer." 

Jim snorted and he dished out several large spoonfuls of tuna and noodles onto his place. "We're taking about your friends here, Chief. Everything about them is strange." He drizzled ranch dressing on his salad and passed the bottle to Blair. "Besides, what kind of gifts do you want? Candy and flowers?" 

Blair grinned. "Real estate and a Mercedes work very well for me." 

Jim smiled. "Not asking for much, are you, Sandburg?" 

Blair chewed and swallowed. "I'm pretty easy, man. I just want to be kept in the style to which I should be accustomed." He grinned at his partner. 

"Sandburg, you are weird." Jim stated and he turned his attentions to his dinner. 

* * *

"Sandburg!" Captain Bank's voice carried through the bullpen. 

"Captain?" Blair answered, leaning in the Captain's doorway. 

"Detective, do I look like the postal service to you?" 

Blair looked bewildered. "Ah, no, sir." 

"Well, then, take that package out of my office!" Simon ordered. 

"Sir?" Blair looked even more confused. 

"Sandburg, on the floor behind the door. It's addressed to you. Please have your personal items delivered to your own residence. This is not Mail Boxes R Us." 

Blair craned his head around the door and stared at the largish cardboard box lying on the floor behind Simon's door. He approached the package carefully and nudged it with his toe. 

"Blair? Is there a problem?" Simon asked seriously. 

"I don't think so, Sir. I'm not sure where this came from so I'm just deciding if it's safe to pick up." 

Simon rose quickly. "Ellison!" He shouted through the open door. 

Jim appeared in seconds. "Captain?" 

"Check out that package, please. Make sure it's safe." 

"Captain, do I look like a bomb-sniffing dog to you? Wait, don't answer that." Jim said as he held up a hand when he saw Simon start to answer. He looked at the package sitting quietly on the floor. "Not another one." Jim mumbled. 

"What do you mean, not another one?" Simon asked. 

Jim shrugged. "Seems Sandburg has an admirer. He's been getting packages all week. This makes number three. So far it's been innocent and nothing dangerous has shown up." Jim scanned the package quickly. "Nothing, Chief. It's okay." 

"Thanks, man." Blair said to Jim. "Sorry, Captain. I have no idea who's doing this." 

Simon glared at Blair. "Don't you have something more important to do today, Detective?" 

"Yes, Sir." Blair grinned at his superior officer and he scooped up his package and beat a hasty retreat with his Sentinel on his heels. 

Blair sat the package on his desk and reached into his pocket. "Damn it!" 

Jim was standing close to his partner when he asked, "Chief, something wrong?" 

"Yeah, something's wrong. Hell and damn. I have a hole in my pocket and my Swiss army knife's gone. Oh, shit." 

"Isn't that the one you got for your Bar Mitzvah? That's really too bad. Maybe it fell out at home or in the car. Maybe it's here somewhere. Let's look." Jim offered. 

Blair was upset. "I've had that knife since I was thirteen. Ah, man, this sucks!" He fell to his hands and knees, searching under all the desks. Jim walked around the bullpen searching the nooks and crannies. Several other members of the squad helped in the search but after all the hallways had been combed as well as the men's restroom, the knife was nowhere to be found. 

"Come on, Chief, let's go to lunch. We'll check the elevator, the truck floor and the path we look getting here this morning. Maybe it will turn up. We can run by the loft, too." 

"Thanks, Jim." Blair ran a hand through his hair. "I know it's silly, but it was important to me. I really want to find it." 

Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder. "It's not silly, Sandburg. It's something that held a lot of meaning for you. I know you're upset. We'll try to find it." 

"Good, man, thanks. I appreciate it. 

The men retraced their steps back to the truck and after a thorough search of the surrounding area and the truck floor, the knife was still missing. Likewise, a search of the loft, the stairs and the parking lot front of their home revealed no knife. 

* * *

"Say, Chief, you forgot about this box. I brought it home for you." Jim dropped the package on the coffee table. 

"Yeah, thanks. I completely forgot about it after today." Blair walked into the living room, toweling his hair dry after his shower. He tossed the towel around his neck and came to stand next to the small table, looking down at the box. "I wonder what's in this one." 

"I guess you won't find out until you open it." Jim said. 

"Good observation, Detective." Blair quipped and Jim smacked the back of his head. Blair grinned. Jim handed him a kitchen knife and Blair slit the packing tape, opening the box and pulling out the contents, a brand-new brown corduroy jacket. 

Blair stood open-mouthed for several seconds. "Hell, this is almost exactly like the one I used to have four years ago." 

Jim nodded. "Sure looks like it. It looks like something a mother would buy to keep her baby boy warm." 

Blair shrugged and grinned. "No way, man. Naomi's in Tahiti for six months. She wouldn't have sent this. Damn it, the same thing." Blair noticed as he inspected the box closer. "No return address. No clue as to who sent it. This is really starting to bug me." 

Jim chuckled. "It's kind of like a puzzle. I thought you liked puzzles." 

"I do like puzzles. I've just never been part of one before, that's all. Look, obviously whoever is sending the items isn't dangerous. And the items themselves must have some significance. I just can't figure out what it is." 

"Well, the Jags are playing in fifteen minutes. You want to watch the game?" Jim asked. 

"Yeah, sure, Jim." Blair picked up the jacket and stared at it for several seconds. Then he shook his head and headed to his room to don clean sweats and to stow the jacket and box. 

* * *

Joel Taggart walked into the bullpen and approached Blair's desk. "Hello, Blair." 

Blair looked up from his typing. He grinned at his friend. "Hey, Joel. How's things?" 

"Great, Blair, just great. Say, I was just picking up my messages and this little package was in my box. I told the guy who sorts the mail that he filed it into the wrong place but he insisted that he hadn't ever seen the box before. Anyway, I thought I'd just deliver it to you personally." Joel set the small box on Blair's desk. It was the size of a deck of cards. Again, it was addressed to Blair Sandburg like the other packages had been, and it also had no return address. 

Blair smiled up at Joel. "Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. I wonder what it is?" 

Joel shrugged. "I've got to go to a meeting, Blair. I'll catch you later." 

"Sure, Joel. Later." Blair picked up the small package and shook it, hearing a small thud as whatever was inside hit the sides of the box. Blair tore off the paper and there, nestled on a small bed of cotton, was a brand new Swiss army knife. The proverbial light bulb went off over Blair's head. "Jim!" he said under his breath. 

But why? Blair thought. There had to be some significance. Think, Blair. Blue jeans. Necklace. Jacket. What was going on? Why was Jim sending him these items anonymously? What was he trying to tell him? Jim knew that he was upset about the lost knife. Think. Think. There had to be a reason. Something Jim was trying to tell him that he couldn't say. So like Jim to let him figure out what it was. So like Jim. Something Jim couldn't say himself. Something Jim knew he would figure out. Damn it, Blair, think! He yelled at himself. 

Blair glanced at the clock on the wall. 6 p.m. Jim would be home by now. He'd left earlier to run some errands and it was his turn to cook tonight. He had told Blair that dinner would be at 7. Blair rose, clicked off the computer and headed home. 

* * *

Blair walked into the loft, yelled hello to Jim who was taking a shower, and went straight to his room, closing the door behind him. He pulled the three items from the box beside his bed and laid them in a small row on the mattress. He paced back and forth staring at each item in turn, mumbling under his breath. 

"What an I missing? What is it, Jim? Help me here, man." Blair murmured as he paced, knowing full well that Jim was probably listening. "Okay, Blair, a puzzle. Think! Jim gave you the clues. 

"First, the coat. It's just like the one I had on the day Kincaid took me hostage. I remember that I had to sew the damned thing myself after that stupid asshole flunky of Kincaid shot at me. I couldn't afford a new coat. But what does it mean?" Blair stopped pacing and ran his hands down his face and through his hair. 

"Okay, the necklace. The beads are handmade by the indigenous people of Guatemala and they make the leather cords, too. They're not expensive, but they're not imported either." Blair started pacing again. "I remember I was pissed when Brackett smashed it thinking it was a bug. I loved that necklace and I remember I felt really bad because I had bought it on my first expedition as an undergrad. 

"Then, there's the jeans." Blair stopped his pacing and picked up the jeans, wracking his brain about them. He muttered over and over, "Blue jeans, blue jeans. Ha!" He exclaimed. "That's it." Finally, his brain worked and he connected the dots. The day he was shot by Dawson Quinn he had been wearing this kind of pants! 

Blair stopped and spoke softly. "Okay, I've got it Jim. I know you're listening. I've figured it out. At least I think I've figured it out." Blair raced to his bedroom door and flung it open just as the front door to the loft clicked closed. He ran to the door and spent several frustrating seconds unlocking it before it opened. 

"Jim!" He yelled, but the elevator pinged shut. Blair tore down the stairs, but when he got to the ground floor the elevator door stood open. When he went out into the street, Jim's truck was already heading down the street. "Shit!" Blair shouted and made his way back up the stairs to the apartment. He stood just inside the door for several minutes trying to decide just what to do next, when he spied a white-business size envelope propped up in the middle of the kitchen table. Blair's name was written in block letters on the front. He went over and snapped up the letter, sinking into a dining room chair. 

Blair forced himself to breathe normally. His hand trembled slightly as he tore open the flap. He pulled out an 8x11 piece of paper with a note handwritten by Jim and an 8x14 official-looking legal document. Not sure that he wanted to read the letter just yet, he unfolded the legal document. He sucked in his breath sharply. Quitclaim Deed, the title spread across the top of the paper. Blair's hand shook as he read the next line, James J. Ellison conveys to James J. Ellison and Blair J. Sandburg... The loft. Jim was giving half of the loft to Blair. 

Blair then forced his uncooperative fingers to open Jim's letter. 

Blair: 

I knew you would figure it out. You're too smart for your own good. Besides, I thought this way it might be at least a bit of fun. I'm trying to have more fun. It's all your fault, you know. You're always telling me to lighten up. 

So know you know. The coat, because I didn't keep you safe in the beginning of our relationship. The necklace, because you kept me safe in the beginning of our relationship. The blue jeans, because you were willing to die to keep Simon safe. And the Swiss army knife? Just because you were so upset. I hate to see you upset or unhappy. Oh, and the loft? Because I want to keep you safe forever. At least I want to try. I can only promise to be there for you and try to make you happy. 

I'm hiding right now because I'm so afraid you'll say no. I can't face that. Damn, I'm such a fucking coward. So either you call me to come home to you or don't call me at all, because I'm not coming back there again if you don't want me. It isn't "home" without you. Is that pathetic or what? What the hell is wrong with me? Oh, yeah, right. I'm in love. With you. In case you were wondering. 

J. 

Blair jumped up from the chair, toppling it over and practically broke an ankle racing to grab the portable phone from the kitchen counter. He hit the memory button for Jim's cell. Three rings and then a click, but no voice, no hello. But Blair knew Jim was listening. He just knew it. 

"Jim, come home now. I'm waiting, Jim. And hurry." Blair disconnected and grinned. "Yes!" He shouted before clamping his hand over his mouth, laughing behind his fingers. He opened the front door and paced restlessly, listening intently for Jim's return, wishing desperately for Sentinel hearing. 

Blair's endless chatter reached Jim's ears before he even started up the stairs. "Come on, Jim. Hurry up, damn it. I've been waiting for you. Hurry. What's taking you so long? Hurry, man, hurry." Blair's voice urged Jim to take the stairs two at a time. 

When Jim pulled open the door leading into their hallway, Blair waited none to patiently in the doorway. The second he saw Jim, he crossed the space between them quickly and practically launched himself at his lover. Jim grinned widely and opened his arms. Blair threw his arms around Jim's neck while Jim's went around Blair's waist. Blair's legs wrapped around Jim's waist and Jim just held him tightly. Blair's lips latched onto Jim's, kissing passionately. Jim returned the kiss with equal passion and he managed to shuffle his way into the loft and kicked the door closed with his foot. They sucked each other's lips and tongues and both men groaned and trembled at the heat and force of their fervor. 

Blair soon became too heavy even for his strong lover and Jim sank to his knees. Blair slid to his backside with a small thump, but their lips never parted. Still kissing feverishly, Jim's hands found the edge of Blair's t-shirt and he tugged it from the waist of his sweats and pushed it up and under Blair's arms. They didn't even bother to part long enough to pull Blair's shirt from his body. Blair yanked Jim's coat from his shoulders and Jim shrugged out of it, leaning into Blair, kissing noisily and making small "mmmm" sounds. Blair then fumbled with the buttons on Jim's shirt and when they refused to cooperate, he yanked hard, sending them flying in all directions. 

Lips sucked and kissed. Tongues licked. Dicks were hard and aching. Tonight there was hot, rough passion bubbling over like an erupting volcano. Nothing could stop the almost desperate need to touch, to connect. Right now it was needy and emotional. Neither wanted to talk, they only wanted to feel. Pants were pushed aside quickly and all too soon hands and lips and mouths brought orgasms crashing through willing bodies. 

"Oh my God!" Blair panted and shivered on the hard floor after coming down from the orgasmic high he was riding on just enough to form a few words. 

"Yeah. Wow." Jim added with a silly grin and pulled Blair close for just a brief hug. Then he rose and tugged his mate to his feet, latching onto his wrist. They only made it about halfway to the stairs when Jim turned and looked at the sweating, still trembling love of his life. He was very serious when he pulled Blair into his arms. "Blair, I'm glad you called." 

"Me, too, Jim." Blair's smiling eyes met Jim's and he leaned into the embrace, melting against his lover's body. 

Jim put a finger under Blair's chin and tilted his head. He kissed him so very gently and lovingly and then he whispered into Blair's ear. "I love you, Chief." 

Goosebumps paraded down Blair's legs and arms and he looked into Jim's eyes with blazing desire. "Man, I love you so much." 

Jim just nodded, but Blair noticed that Jim's eyes seemed a bit wetter than usual. Jim started to turn away, but Blair slid a hand behind his head. "Jim?" He whispered, Sentinel soft. "Are you okay?" 

Jim nodded again. "More than okay. Now, I'm more than okay." He answered with a soft smile, tugging gently on Blair's hand. Blair followed eagerly into his lover's bed. Now they took the time to explore and to observe. To taste and to touch. To tease and to satisfy. And a long while later, to finally fall asleep hot and sweaty, sticky and messy, sated and loved, wrapped in each other's arms. In their bed, in their loft. 

* * *

End The Puzzle by LilyK: chakbalam@netscape.net

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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